Wait
by ThatOneGoodWriter
Summary: One-shot. Clace. A late thanksgiving gift!


_One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night. _

Margaret Mead

**x**

They were driving through Brooklyn, observing the worn-down neighborhood. Outside, the air was cool and music played loudly from a crumbling apartment building they passed. Alexander chewed his gum lazily. He was on his phone, his fingers tapping unrelentingly. No doubt it was Magnus Bane, his infamous detective boyfriend.

Jace watched some boys playing basketball in the dark, shouting at each other to pass the ball. He released a breath through his gritted teeth. "The chief sends us for a patrol when he knows we're not going to get any calls."

It took a few seconds for his partner to respond. He scoffed. "Aren't you supposed to be glad we don't have any calls? That means the people are alright." He rolled his blue orbs and pulled down his window further. "I like uneventful days anyway."

**x**

It was around midnight that they finally received their first call. Jace tugged his radio to his mouth. "Wayland and Lightwood."

A woman's voice filled the vehicle. "Report of domestic abuse on Alicante Street, 5670."

Jace's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Heading down there now."

Alexander cursed.

**x**

The house looked abandoned. The front window was broken and the door was swung open. Jace patted his belt, a strange habit to make sure he was prepared, and stepped outside. In the distance, a dog barked wildly and a man was screaming on the phone.

"I'm guessing this is the high point of New York, eh?" Jace ignored him and took the stairs to the house briskly.

When he was near the door, he called out firmly, "This is the police. We have a report of domestic abuse."

A minute passed before a young woman appeared hesitantly. She tucked her auburn hair behind her ear. "Come in." She murmured.

**x**

The living room was a mess of bottles of beer and food containers. The television set blared with the sound of the local news and a cat was perched on a bookshelf, tail wagging lowly. She gestured toward a couch and sat down across from them.

"I'm Officer Wayland and this is Officer Lightwood. We're here to help, Miss..."

She wiped her eyes. Jace could only imagine that she had been crying only recently. "It's Clary. Call me Clary." She cleared her throat and stared at him for the first time since letting him in. Her eyes were a bright green and freckles peppered her pale skin. She didn't look any older than he was, but there was something that made her appear terribly small.

"A neighbor by the name Jordan Kyle called in about some screaming and possibly things being thrown around. Can you explain to us what happened?" Alexander took out his notepad and began to scrawl some observations.

She tightened her arms across her chest. "It was nothing. Just a small argument with my boyfriend."

Jace knit his eyebrows. "It didn't seem like a small argument to the neighbors. They were pretty concerned for your safety, ma'am."

She pursed her lips. "They shouldn't have been. I'm perfectly fine." Her locks unfurled and they slipped over her forehead and cheeks.

"So the broken glass is nothing?" Alexander retorted, leaning forward in his seat. "We need a full report Clary. The truth will get us through this faster."

Her cheeks flushed. He could tell it wasn't from embarrassment. "We got in an argument. He gets angry sometimes. He doesn't mean to." She was speaking faster now and her gaze had found his. "I'm okay. And he's okay."

"Where is your boyfriend?" Jace asked, glancing around the small home.

She shook her head certainly. "He's not here. He left."

"When will he get back?"

She played with her fingers. "Probably tomorrow. I'm not sure."

Alexander rose up first. "We'll be back tomorrow. We can't have a full report unless we speak to him directly." He clicked his pen and bought it into his pocket.

All she did was nod.

**x**

Two hours later he was slipping into his bed quietly, hoping not to wake the slumbering Aline. She stirred anyway, like she always did. She never was a deep sleeper. Her dark eyes squinted, "Hey. What time is it?"

He tugged the blanket over their bodies. "Late."

She made a small sound before tucking her head into his chest. "You work too much."

Jace laughed and managed a yawn right afterwards. "Maybe."

**x**

Alexander didn't make it to his desk and when Jace had called him, assuming he was running late, his partner sounded distinctly sleepy. "Yeah, I'm not coming in today."

In the background, Jace heard Magnus eagerly say, "Oh! Do say hello to Jace."

Jace sighed and ended the call.

**x**

It was around the end of the work day that Jace realized he had to finalize the report made the night before. He brought his fingers to his nose and pinched hard. Screw Alexander for leaving him alone while he frolicked with his boyfriend.

He drove down to the house and found the front door close. When he announced his arrival, the woman appeared again, this time with a man behind her, his arm protectively clasping her waist. He was older than her, with curly brown hair and tan skin. Without saying anything, he jerked his head inside, beckoning Jace to come in.

"I suppose you're Clary's boyfriend?" When the man didn't reply, Jace continued, irritated. "What's your name?"

He stretched his arms out on the couch, one of them slung over Clary. She was quiet, not paying them any attention. Her hair was down, reaching past her back and she wore a long sleeved, blue sweater. Jace looked away and flipped through his small pad.

"Raphael Santiago."

"Alright, Mr. Santiago. What happened yesterday?"

Raphael licked his lips and shrugged, almost confused. "What do you mean?"

Jace had had enough. His shift had probably ended and yet he was still here dealing with a report that was either false or wasn't going to lead anywhere. "Stop with the bullshit. The police department got a report of domestic abuse. You can explain or we can have a formal investigation."

Raphael unlatched himself from the couch. He leaned forward threateningly and Jace fought the urge to throttle him right there. "Investigation?" He laughed, a vein on his forehead pumping. "Of what?"

Alexander would've told him to just leave the house and forget about the whole thing. But there was something about the girl. Something that made him stay. That made him act irrationally even as a police officer. "No problem. I'll be leaving. If we receive any more reports, you'll be arrested." He shoved his pen into his pocket and voiced a quick message on his radio.

Before stepping outside, he called, "Clary? Can I speak to you for a second?"

**x**

They were out on the porch. "What?" She asked, glancing around suspiciously.

He grabbed both of her arms and she yelped, surprised. "What the h-" He pulled the sleeves of her sweater and found the purple bruises he had been searching for. She jerked away from him. "Don't touch me!"

"Are you lying to yourself?" Jace asked, plucking a card from his uniform's pocket. "Take this. You can throw it away or you can use it to get this prick behind bars." She stared at his information and he couldn't decipher her expression. When she didn't reply, he let out a breath, "Have a good night, Clary."

**x**

_one month later _

**x **

They were eating dinner in the kitchen, Aline rambling about her day. "I only had one parent shouting about their kid, so I guess it wasn't that bad." She worked as a middle school math teacher. Her week usually consisted of lots of tutoring and endless development meetings. She stabbed her fork into her dish of chicken salad. "How was yours?"

Jace shrugged. "Normal. I was on patrol with Alexander."

His phone lit up from the counter. He tapped the home screen and read a text from an unknown number. It read:

_I'd like to see you, if you're still willing to help. _

He knew who it was without asking.

**x**

He waited at the his local bar and tuned in absent-mindedly to a basketball game. He wasn't on duty, but he knew it was risky meeting with someone who had previously been in a police report.

"Officer Wayland." Jace turned and found her standing behind him. Standing, she reached a little above his elbow. She was wearing a tank top and ripped jeans. This time, she didn't bother to hide her bruises and scars. They were shown like proud tattoos. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, strands creeping onto her eyes.

"Call me Jace."

She nodded, searched around the bar. "Can we talk outside?"

**x**

The evening sky grew darker and Jace had managed to convince Aline that the Chief had called him in for a last job. She was disappointed and wanted to spend more time with him since they never really could with their overarching jobs. She agreed though, smiling even when she was deflated.

They trudged down the pavement, Clary leading the way. "I didn't know who I could trust." She started, rubbing her hands together. "I texted you thinking you wouldn't answer. But you did." She met his face. "I don't know what to do Jace."

The sound of his name from her mouth made his chest tighten.

**x**

"Where is he now?" Jace asked. They settled to a bench near a bus stop, facing the roaring road.

Clary hesitated. "I'm not sure. He's always in and out. I left him a voicemail and told him I was leaving."

"Leaving?" Jace hesitated. "Leaving where?"

She shook her head. "Leaving him. I took my things and went to a motel."

"When did it start?"

"He took me in when I was seventeen."

Jace uncurled his fists. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Seventeen? How old are you? Why did-"

"I'm twenty three." They were the same age. "I got pregnant when I was seventeen." Her leg bounced up and down rapidly. "My family disowned me. Raphael told me he'd stay with me if I got an abortion. So I did."

Jace swallowed. "I..." He faltered. What was there to say?

"I've been with him because I love him." She turned to him, her face centimeters away from his. "You've got to believe me. I didn't do anything wrong." Her eyes glistened and slowly her expression crumbled.

Her shoulders shook and she muttered, "Love doesn't hurt like this." She placed her arms out on display. Her pale skin was riddled with violet marks of different sizes. She raised her leg and peeled the jean fabric upwards. There were welts there too.

_You're a fucking police officer, Wayland. You have to get away from her. Let the department take care of it. You've dreamed of getting promoted. You're happy with Aline. Why can't you let her go? You don't even know her. _

**x**

He helped her put up a restraining order against Raphael.

**x**

He made sure Raphael's people were on the department's radar and that any mistake could place them in jail.

**x**

He did what he had to do as an officer.

**x**

But then he did things he couldn't explain. Things he didn't tell anyone he did.

**x**

Like pay for her rental at the motel.

**x**

Like buy her groceries.

**x**

Like accompany her while she searched for a job.

**x**

They were in the supermarket, looking through the dairy products. Clary had a small list in her hand. He followed her with a cart. It was late afternoon and Aline believed he was at the station, probably on patrol again. Clary placed a cup of yogurt into the cart and announced, "We just need some food for Chairman Meow."

He rolled his eyes. "Anything for the cat."

His sarcasm made her giggle. She covered her mouth with her hand. It was rare to catch her laughing. She was doing better. The fresh bruises had turned into white scars. It was still difficult for her to talk to people other than himself, but she tried nonetheless.

**x**

"You should get back. Your girlfriend's probably worried." She began, after placing her grocery bags into the small kitchen in her apartment room. He was guilty. Guilty that he was spending his time with Clary instead of Aline. Guilty that he liked Clary and hadn't told her. Guilty that he had mixed feelings.

When he attempted to pick up a gallon of milk and place it in the fridge, she grabbed both of his hands in hers. They were warm and soft and small. "Go home." Her voice was gentle. "You can't stay here. Thank you. But I know she wants you there."

He listened.

**x**

He was watching television while Aline was grading some assignments when his phone rang. It couldn't have been Alexander or the department. His shift had ended uneventfully hours ago.

He answered, "Wayland?"

"Jace?"

He rose up from his seat and ventured into the porch. "Yeah."

She sounded uneasy. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just got out of my art class, but it's late-"

He understood immediately. She never really left after dark. She was constantly reminded of Raphael and their outings. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

**x**

It was raining hard. At first, it was a light drizzle. Now, it felt like rocks were pounding against his car. He found her outside of the small building, clutching her art books tightly. Her hair was matted against her skin and she was visibly shivering.

He jogged out of the front seat and upon seeing him, she smiled. "Thank you." She mumbled quietly as he grabbed her things and told her to follow him. It was cold and he could barely see anything. How long had she been waiting?

When they were in the safety of his car, he blasted the heater and for a while they didn't speak. She ran her hands over her face, removing the water. Her shorts were drenched and he had to peer away when he realized she was wearing a white shirt.

**x**

"Be ready to run." He advised her, once the apartment was in view.

She nodded. "You can stay here. I'll go inside."

He whistled. "No way. I'll take you up there."

Jace couldn't tell for certain, but he was sure she grinned in relief.

**x**

They sprinted down the cement and managed to make it to the lobby, their clothes damp and dripping. When they found the lone elevator, they discovered it wasn't available and Jace laughed. "Wow."

Clary was quiet as they took the flights of stairs to her sixth level. Her hair had somehow unfurled and was drying into thick curls. When they arrived at her door, she fumbled with the keys and he took them from her gently. "I got it." He whispered.

Her apartment was tiny, but adorned with her many paintings, most unfinished. She was constantly working on new things. Apparently, Raphael thought art was a waste of time. She was only ever allowed to accompany him to clubs and the houses of friends.

Clary took her supplies from him and placed them on the dining room table. She released a breath and looked up to him. "I have a shirt you can borrow." She led him to her bedroom and opened the top cabinet drawer. "I usually paint with it on." When he took it, she reassured him, "It's clean."

He peeled off his top and she immediately turned around. Her innocence amused him. He snapped his fingers near her head playfully. "You can look at me now."

Her cheeks were crimson.

**x**

While his shirt was in the dryer, Clary said she had some leftover pizza from the night before. He waited on a stool and watched as she moved around the small space. The microwave ticked down to its last seconds and Jace sauntered to grab the heated pizza just as Clary turned from her dish handling.

"Shit, my bad." He muttered. Their chests touched and he noticed that her shirt was still muggy. That her bra was visible. That he could see and count the freckles on her arms.

She was close enough that he could feel her breath on his chest. His hands itched to grasp her, but she moved away slowly and took the slices from the microwave. "Bon appetit."

**x**

**x**

"You're cheating on her." Alexander started, disgust written over his face. "You didn't have sex with her, but you're cheating on her while you're playing with that-"

Jace shoved him against the wall of the bathroom they were in. His partner frowned. "She means that much to you, eh?" His words were bitter. He pushed Jace away and straightened his collar.

**x**

"Are you alright?" She asked him, worried. He was knocking on her door and it was midnight. She didn't appear like she had been sleeping. In fact, she looked wide awake. Her hair was in a bun and she was wearing a large gray shirt, splattered with paint marks.

"Can I come in?"

**x**

She made some tea and shooed Chairman Meow when he growled from Jace's feet. Sitting beside him, she asked again, "Is something up?"

His mind was in shambles. He couldn't sleep or eat. He couldn't kiss Aline. He couldn't hug her goodbye. He couldn't look at Alexander without wanting to run until his lungs gave out. "I have to tell you something."

She nodded, her eyebrows furrowed. "Okay."

Except he didn't tell her.

**x**

He kissed her.

For a long second, she didn't respond.

And then she did, bringing her hands into his hair. Then his neck.

He rubbed his thumb along her jaw. Her lips were hot and burning. She was gentle, nibbling on his mouth then waiting for him to continue.

When they pulled away, his eyes were still closed. It was silent.

**x**

"It's wrong." She didn't sound frantic. She sounded terribly sad and disappointed. "I want you, but I can't have you." It was the first time she was admitting this to him.

Jace's heart was beating wildly. He wanted so badly to think, but all he could see was her. Her curls and her milky, white skin. Her plump lips and her green eyes. The way her palms were still on his chest, like she didn't even notice.

"I want you too." He sucked in a breath.

She let go of him and stood up, pacing the small space. "I don't want to hurt her. She's done nothing wrong to me."

Clary wiped her eyes. He hadn't even known she was crying. "You have to leave Jace. Come when it's okay."

**x**

It was never okay.

**x**

A month passed.

**x**

Then six.

**x**

He didn't know where she was or what she was doing. If she still lived in the apartment or if she had moved. They had gone their separate ways, without making a plan to meet again.

**x**

He ended up marrying Aline. He rose ranks and became a detective. They built a home in the suburbs and lived there.

**x**

Not two years passed before the two called for a divorce.

**x**

He was twenty six when he flew back to Brooklyn. He stayed there, in a shabby apartment despite knowing he could afford much better. Some part of him was hoping he'd see her. Catch sight of her in the New York crowds.

**x**

He was coming home from the office after a long day of investigating a homicide case. On his way, he found a tiny art shop, barely visible in the larger marts and restaurants nearby.

He entered, a magnetic force pulling his body.

**x**

They told art supplies and art pieces. The place was crowded with materials, but decorative in style. So far, it seemed like he was the lone customer.

It was then that he heard a voice call to him, "Hello, sir. What can I help you with?"

He didn't turn. He grinned, dimples flashing. "Call me Jace."

**x**

**[a/n]: **_This was supposed to be finished by Thanksgiving as a gift to you all. I'm sorry it's late. I don't even know where I got the inspiration for this, but I hope you liked it. I am thankful for each and every one of you. For continuing to support me as a writer. I love you all. _

_Please review and let me know what you think. _


End file.
